


In which Zentavious meets Isis

by MissieMoose



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demons, Gen, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Ásgarðr | Asgard (realm)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissieMoose/pseuds/MissieMoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a short little drabble I wrote about the meeting between Isis (non-trek) and Zentavious, my demon boyo. Yes, it has Loki. No, it’s not Tom Hiddleston Loki. Yes, these are all original characters. Yes, there is an allusion to Good Omens. If you find it, A+ for you. You go, Glen Coco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Zentavious meets Isis

Loki was slouched in a chair as he stared out of a window into the dark, drizzly afternoon. He had three fingers rested against the side of his head, keeping his face propped while he sat in silent contemplation. Outside his home, lightning would split the sky in half and thunder would shake the walls, but the noise created by Thor fell on deaf ears. He was too preoccupied with the thoughts of his ward and her most recent request.

Nearly seventy years had passed since he first found her in that forest and she had been a pitiful sight. Her clothing ragged, her body half starved, and her mind not entirely present, she had been trying to give water to a recently-dead man, unable to comprehend why he wasn’t drinking the water. Of course, he soon quickly learned that she had always not been in such a state, that the insanity had been brought about when some men masquerading as Catholic monks had used her and her late-fiancé in some sort demonic ritual.

They hadn’t entirely succeeded, as evidenced by her locking them within their false church and burning it to the ground.

Even when she had regained her senses and memories, she wasn’t entirely able to recall the events that had happened during her spell of insanity –just that it had all started on May 15th, 1477. When Loki had found her, twenty-three years had gone by and she had traveled from Wallachia to the Hoy Roman Empire, leaving plenty of stories for frightened farmers and hunters to tell.

But that had been seventy years ago. Now with her curse altered and her mind intact, she wanted to visit Midgard again, to see how much it had changed over time. Even though she was technically an immortal now, she longed to go back and be with other humans again. Asgard, she had told him, was a pleasant place (when the Jotuns weren’t trying to take over) but it wasn’t her home.

Loki had tried to reason with her. He had told her that, thanks to her curse, she may never have a real home again –she would be forced to move every dozen years or so in order to prevent people from growing suspicious. She would need to take special precaution every month, for she needed to ingest raw animal blood in order to keep herself from going feral again. It would be dangerous, he had said, and that she wouldn’t have his or any of the other gods for help.

But still she wanted to go back.

He had sought advice from their children –now fully grown- and they had told him to let her go. If trouble came to her, his son’s servants would be at her beck and call. His daughter, too, would come to her aid if ever she needed it. It did little to ease his mind.

Odin had ordered him to watch over her, to keep her out of the hands of those who would use her to do harm unto the world. If someone were to find out her true nature –a side of her she hardly understood herself- it would mean disaster for a large portion of the world’s population. With Europe only just recovering from years upon years of plagues sweeping through its realms, he knew that it would be a risk allowing her to go back.

Yet, she had been so sincere when she had come to him, asking if she could return. He almost granted her permission right away, but he had managed to hold his tongue. That was three days ago and she waited patiently for him to mull it over and give her an answer.

If there was one thing he had to give her credit for, it would be her patience. It was a grace so uncommon even amongst gods that he was still left surprised by how long she could wait for something; this was especially useful when it came to raising their twins, as their son could throw quite a fuss at times.

“You appear to be so peacefully absorbed in your thoughts that I almost hate to interrupt you.”

He looked up with a start, finding a man crookedly smiling at him. His skin was black like onyx, but his hair as white as freshly fallen snow. Behind him, a long tail slowly swished back and forth as he stared at the god with impossibly green eyes.

“Zentavious? What are you doing out of Hell?” he questioned, amused by the demon’s presence. Rising to his feet, he held his hand out to him only to pull him into a hug.

“It would seem that Lilith has finally grown ill of my presence,” he replied. Upon closer inspection, Loki could see that he had recently been raked across the face by a set of claws. “And so, I thought it best to come pay my friend a visit. After all, it has been what –nearly two hundred years?- since we last saw one another.”

“So you’ve been kicked out of Hell then?” he mused. “What was it that sent her into a rage?”

He shrugged, his tail moving a bit more excitedly now. “Not ‘kicked out’, exactly…” he corrected. “I am in a state of exile, if you will. I still retain my powers, but I am no longer under dominion of any of Hell’s rulers.”

“And why are you left in such a state of banishment?”

Zentavious smirked. “I merely refused to harm an innocent creature and Lilith went into a rage, declaring how I was her most useless servant and how unworthy of the title ‘demon’ I am. Of course, she made sure she punished me before she dragged me to the surface, but it was nothing I hadn’t suffered before.”

“And what creature was it that you refused to harm?”

The demon sheepishly glanced away. “A kitten.”

Loki gave him a dry look. “A kitten?”

“I believe that is what I just stated, is it not?” His tail caught the god’s hand as he made to give him a playful shove. “Yes, a kitten. You know how I feel about harming animals for no reason at all.”

“True,” Loki agreed, untangling his hand from the tail. He walked over to a table where a clay pitcher and some cups stood. “That is a sentiment leftover from when you were a simple spirit of the earth, if I recall.”

He nodded as he looked out of the window. “That it is,” he replied. “While I appreciate the physical form Lucifer has gifted me with, I do sometimes object to being locked within it.”

“Oh, we both know you’re not locked in this shape,” Loki chuckled. He came back over, offering one of the cups to Zentavious. “It’s not mead, but it’s good,” he told him when he took the cup.

“True…I can alter my appearance and species, but I do, at times, miss being just a ball of mystical light.” He took a drink from the cup and his brows rose. “Blackberry wine? I wasn’t aware you enjoyed this sort of drink, Loki.”

Loki shrugged. “What can I say? I’ve been corrupted by my ward.” He took a drink from his own cup, watching as lightning streaked across the sky.

His brow rose. “Your ward?” Zentavious repeated. “And when did you come by such a nuisance? Surely this was not something done out of the kindness of your own heart?” He took another drink of the wine before turning his back to the window.

“It was a mixture of kindness and an order from the All Father,” answered Loki. “I cannot go into specifics, but I can tell you that she’s a mortal woman with an unusual history-” He glanced at the door as he heard it open and watched as a small woman –she couldn’t have been more than four and a half feet tall- came in bearing a tray laden with food.

“Loki, I’ve brought you some sup-” She paused when she saw Zentavious beside him. “Oh. I hadn’t realized you had company.”

Zentavious looked at Loki. “Your ward?” he playfully inquired.

He nodded before motioning to the demon. “Isis, this is an old friend of mine, Zentavious Caerdullis.”

She gave a polite nod of the head as she set the tray down. “Should I fetch more stew then?”

Loki visibly perked. “You made stew? What sort?”

“Rabbit,” she answered.

“My favorite. Yes, bring another bowl –though, I think there is enough bread and wine for the two of us for now.”

She nodded before taking her leave of the room.

Zentavious raised his brow. “That’s your charge?”

“Yes.” He went over and refilled his wine. “Why?”

“She’s nothing more than a child!”

“Please. She’s one-hundred sixteen years old,” Loki scolded. “Yes, she is on the small side, but I assure you –she is fully grown.”

“And named after the Mother of Egypt, I see.”

“The name was not hers from birth,” Loki explained. “She cannot remember the name she was given, so Sigyn gifted her with a new one.”

“Interesting.” He went over to the table as well, intrigued by the smell of the food. “Did she make all this?”

“With some help from Sigyn, I would imagine,” he answered, “but for the most part, yes. She’s quite the little kitchen sprite, amusingly enough.” He plucked up the bowl of stew and offered it to Zentavious, who gave him a curious look. “You’re my guest; you get to be the first one served during meals.”

The demon narrowed his eyes as he cautiously took the bowl. “I don’t trust you.”

“Is there anyone who does?” he mused. “But I swear to you on my life that I have done nothing to the food. How could I? You’ve been watching me the entire time.”

“You’re a god, that’s how.” He picked up the wooden spoon with his tail before taking it with his hand. Giving the stew a small sniff, he found that it smelled delicious –but with Loki around, he couldn’t be entirely sure that it was safe. Regardless, he dipped the spoon into the stew and, blowing on the small portion, scooped it into his mouth.

“See? She’s quite the little cook.” He sat down across from the demon.

“Emphasis on little,” Zentavious told him after swallowing, “but I will agree that this is the best rabbit stew I have ever eaten. Not that I have eaten rabbit stew before now; Hell has such bland, leathery food.”

“Because the only thing that grows there is hatred, anger, and pain.” Loki lifted the loaf of bread and broke it in half. “Now that you’re pleasantly exiled, I’m sure you’ll be delighted by all the delightful foods the world has to offer you. Where do you plan on staying, by the way?”

Zentavious was chewing another bite of the stew, so it took him a moment or two to answer. “A colleague of mine is going to let me stay when him for the time being,” he replied.

“Ah, you still have colleagues, despite being exiled?”

He waved his tail dismissively. “Of course I do! Not all of us who hail from Hell are about backstabbing and asserting our dominance over others,” he told the god. “This one is has just enough charm and is enough of a bastard to even be considered my friend.”

“You can sit down you know,” Loki joked. “So, which demon would this be? Is he one that I’ve heard of or met?”

Using his tail once more, Zentavious pulled the chair out and sat down. “I am quite sure you’ve not met him, though I think the two of you would get along –He is the Serpent who seduced Eve with the Forbidden Fruit.”

“And does this Serpent have a name?”

“Of course he does. He’s called Cr-” He broke off as Isis returned, bearing not only another bowl of stew, but a small cauldron of stew as well.

Loki gave her a tender smile as she set the bowl in front of him. “Thank you, Isis,” he told her. “This should be good enough for now.”

She nodded, setting the cauldron on the table. “I brought this in case either of you wished to have more. Narvi and Vali are doing their best to devour the rest.”

His fiery brow rose. “Have you even eaten yet?” he asked, tearing a smaller chunk of bread off from his half loaf.

“No. I’ve been running around, trying to get dessert done.”

Zentavious cocked his head. “Dessert? What is ‘dessert’?”

“A special meal that sometimes comes after dinner,” Loki explained. “Normally, it involves sweet foods like pie or cake.” He looked back to Isis, who seemed baffled that this demon didn’t know what dessert was. “You had best get yourself a bowl of stew before there’s nothing left,” he instructed. “And have Sigyn watch over whatever it is you’re making. You could use a break, Isis.”

Nodding in understanding, she gave a quick curtsy to the two males before taking her leave. Zentavious leaned back in his seat, watching her leave as he slowly chewed a bit of meat. Across from him, Loki started to eat, his brow raising when he noticed the demon’s lingering stare.

“What’s on your mind?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” he assured Loki. “Just…If her ‘dessert’ is as good as this stew, I believe I should retract my statement about her being a nuisance. Her food is quite enjoyable.”

Loki grinned. “Trust me –it will be _better_.”


End file.
